


In Vino Veritas

by loves_books



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, First Time, M/M, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 17:49:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9503075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: Robbie has often indulged in fantasies involving James and passionate kisses, but in his wildest dreams, he’d never dared imagine this. It’s a glorious dream come true, though, and ‘glorious’ is the only word that comes even close to describing how he feels right now, sprawled back on his sofa with James in his arms.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm reasonably confident that this story should actually be 'No Archive Warnings Apply', however I've decided to err on the side of extreme caution - if in any doubt about reading on, please see the end notes for some spoilery warnings. 
> 
> The first part of this story appeared briefly on my lj page last year. It has since been reworked and extended, with the help of my wonderful beta - Willowbrooke, thank you so much for all your suggestions and advice, I think this is a far better story because of your input.
> 
> And readers, please take note of the rating - the explicit parts start almost immediately...

Robbie has often indulged in fantasies involving James and passionate kisses, but in his wildest dreams, he’d never dared imagine this. It’s a glorious dream come true, though, and ‘glorious’ is the only word that comes even close to describing how he feels right now, sprawled back on his sofa with James in his arms.

They aren’t quite making out like teenagers, no. It’s somehow more desperate than that, or at least it seems that way on James’s side. To be honest, Robbie would probably be happier if they slowed things down just a fraction, but he certainly isn’t going to say no to having this particular gorgeous and leggy blond kissing him as if his very life depends on it.

“Easy, love,” he manages to gasp between kisses, one hand cupping the back of James’s head and the other gentling up and down his long spine. “Not that I’m complaining, mind, but why the sudden rush?”

“Need you,” James gasps right back at him, his own larger hands everywhere and nowhere all at once – in Robbie’s hair, at his neck, on his chest, arms, and thighs, and eventually at his groin.

“You’ve got me, James, you’ve – Christ, man, do that again.” Those long and talented musician’s fingers cup him firmly through his thin trousers, and in a heartbeat Robbie is rock hard, faster than he’s been in years.

“Need you.” James’s voice is suddenly deeper and more insistent, his kisses growing hungry and his tongue hot in Robbie’s mouth. With a twist of his agile body he climbs into Robbie’s lap, long legs either side of Robbie’s own, and he grinds down against Robbie, wringing an agonised yet delighted groan from Robbie’s lips. “Need you so much.”

And as the rest of Robbie’s blood rushes south, away from his brain, he decides to just go with the flow. They’ve waited long enough, after all, and they’ve been heading steadily in this direction for the last few months, since he and Laura finally called time on their attempt at being more than just friends. Lingering looks, gentle touches and sweet smiles. Long evenings on this very sofa, where the spaces between them had gradually eroded, until it was natural for Robbie to drape one arm around James’s shoulders to pull the other man closer.

Then came chaste kisses, on the cheek at first, becoming tiny pecks on the lips. They’ve even slept side by side in Robbie’s bed a few times, both of them in t-shirt and shorts, but this? This is going from zero to sixty in precisely no seconds at all, but if this is what James needs, then Robbie certainly isn’t going to say no.

“Robert,” James drawls, his honey-rich voice deeper than Robbie can ever remember hearing it, and Christ does that go straight to his groin. “Robert, my Robert…”

Abruptly, those grasping hands pull back as James slides sinuously to the floor, his elegant body undulating gracefully as he settles himself between Robbie’s parted knees. 

Stormy eyes are virtually black now, James’s pupils clearly blown wide with arousal, and trembling hands start to fumble at Robbie’s waistband. The belt gives way first, then the button, then finally, finally the zip.

“Jesus, James.” Robbie lets his head fall back heavily into the sofa cushions, groaning loudly in relief when his cock finally springs free from the confines of his boxers. “Exactly how much did you have to drink before you came over?”

A deliberate puff of warm breath against the base of his cock, and Robbie’s hips twitch upwards automatically, searching for contact of some kind. He fights the urge to bury his hands in James’s short hair, letting them fall onto the sofa instead. “Just half a glass,” James purrs. “Just to taste. Couldn’t resist.”

“Must be bloody good stuff,” Robbie just about manages to laugh before losing all his words as he is suddenly enveloped in the most incredible moist warmth when James takes him deep into his mouth.

The bottle of wine in question is still standing on Robbie’s dining table, where James had set it down before cupping Robbie’s face and kissing him passionately for the very first time, his lips tasting of grapes and chocolate and black cherries. 

Sure enough, barely an inch is gone from the top of the bottle, the half-glassful James has clearly sampled. Homemade wine they’d bought from the local farmers’ market that very afternoon, wine they’d planned to have with the dinner currently going cold on the table next to the bottle – the seller had promised it would go well with the venison they’d already bought, and had also promised it would give them good health and great sex, with a lewd wink that had left James blushing ferociously and Robbie laughing.

All of that is far from Robbie’s mind at the moment, though, as James sets his apparently highly talented tongue to work. Those long hands and fingers, no longer trembling, clamp down on Robbie’s hips to pin him to the sofa, and all Robbie can do is raise his own hands to rest them gently on James’s head, guiding rather than forcing.

God, but James is bloody brilliant at this. It’s almost sensory overload for Robbie with suction, pressure, a hint of teeth, motion, and then, in a wickedly brilliant move, James starts to hum as he takes Robbie even deeper, right down into his throat, snug and tight and hot and wet.

It’s been a very long time since anyone did this for Robbie, longer still since he’s had a bloke between his legs, and his orgasm quickly grows close, but Robbie has just about enough brain cells left to remember that he isn’t as young as he used to be.

Reluctantly, his own hands shaking slightly now, he tugs James’s head up and off, his spit-slick cock springing back up hard against his belly. The whine of disappointment from James nearly breaks Robbie’s resolve, but he swallows hard and clears his throat, trying to ignore the throb in his groin at the sight of a string of saliva hanging from James’s swollen lips.

He chooses his words as carefully as he can, speaking quickly. “Hold on, love, just a second. If you want this, if you really want me to – well, that’ll be me done for the night. I won’t get it up again, much as I might wish I could, so as bloody brilliant as this is, what happens next is up to you.” Robbie strokes both thumbs gently across James’s flushed cheeks, looking deep into those strangely dark eyes. “What do you want from me, pet? What can I do for you tonight?” 

James’s chest is heaving as he takes in deep gulps of air, a visible – and, Robbie can’t help noticing, large – bulge in his faded jeans. James whines again, trying to shake his head, and his hands tighten on Robbie’s hips before he finally says, in one explosive breath, “Fuck me.”

“Christ, lad.” Robbie’s head lands back in the sofa cushions with a distinct thunk. “You’ll be the death of me, won’t you?”

“Want you to fuck me,” James says again, his hands starting to wander up from Robbie’s hips to his waist then sliding deliberately beneath his shirt, stroking up belly and chest before finding and tweaking peaked nipples. “Fuck me, then suck me. Want your hands on me, want your fingers in me. Fuck, want your hand in me. Need you to own me. Need to be yours, Robert, please. Please.”

At that, Robbie has to drop one hand away from James’s head to squeeze hard at the base of his own cock, else it all really will be over far too soon. Who would’ve imagined James had such a filthy mouth on him? He hovers right on the edge for several long minutes – not helped at all by the way James turns his head to capture Robbie’s thumb in his mouth and sucks hard, tongue swirling around the tip – but eventually the danger passes. For now, at least.

“Bedroom,” he manages, pushing James back and scrambling to his feet in an entirely undignified manner. “I’m not taking you on the sofa, you’re too bloody big for that and I’ll do my back in before we get anywhere near any of your wish-list.”

The moment Robbie is on his feet, his throbbing cock hanging obscenely from the gaping front of his trousers, James is all over him again, long arms wrapping around him from behind and hot lips finding Robbie’s neck, sucking in a move that will surely leave an impressive love-bite.

There’s also a distinctive humping motion against Robbie’s backside, which is quite impressive in itself as they stumble together through the flat towards the bedroom. “One thing at a time, James,” Robbie laughs, breathless and lightheaded with desire – God, he feels twenty again. The things this incredible man does to him. “Thought you wanted me in you, not vice versa?”

“Yes,” James groans, just as he actually rips Robbie’s shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. “Fuck me, please, need you. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…”

Robbie growls, “Clothes off, right this moment.” It’s not elegant, nor is it particularly sexy, but a few moments of frantic stripping leaves them both, finally, naked in Robbie’s bedroom. No time for any sort of body shyness, nor really time for anything more than a quick, highly appreciative glance, before James tackles Robbie down onto his orthopaedic mattress, falling with him to land on top.

“Fuck me, Robert, please, please…”

“Easy now.” Robbie tries to wrap his arms around James, but the man has turned into a writhing, wriggling beast of pure need, all arms and legs and beautiful begging, and for all that Robbie would far rather this was moving slower, he’s no saint. “I know what you need, love. I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you, trust me.”

He can’t calm James, but he can roll him, and in a split-second he has James squirming on his back with Robbie kneeling over him, James’s cock – long and slender and elegant, just like the rest of the man – a vividly swollen bright red and pressed up hard against his toned stomach.

“Please, please… Robert, I need…”

Robbie leans sideways to snag what he needs from the top drawer in his bedside table by touch alone, unable to tear his gaze away from James’s blown pupils. He’s suddenly glad for his old Boy Scout instincts of always being prepared, no matter how embarrassed he’d been picking up lube and condoms from a Tesco Express on the other side of the city.

“I know what you need,” he tells James again with a grin, decision made, putting a little more authority into his voice and doing his level best to ignore the ache from his own swollen cock. He quickly slicks up the fingers on both hands while leaning down to steal a quick kiss from James. “Let’s take the edge off for you, shall we?”

James whines again when Robbie sits back on his heels, frustration actually beading tears in the corners of his eyes, before he shouts loudly with delight as Robbie wraps a slick hand around his straining cock. His hips buck up into Robbie’s grip, stomach and thigh muscles visibly bunching and releasing as his hands fist the sheets by his side, but Robbie lets him do whatever he needs. He’s enjoying the view, to be honest, and enjoying the feel of another man’s cock in his hands after so long.

In his grip, James is burning hot and actually throbbing, and there’s no way this will take long – his partner is young enough to get it up again, perhaps after a short nap and a glass of the wine that Robbie still hasn’t tasted, and then they can take it all a little slower as they learn each other’s bodies properly. 

Robbie can hardly wait to take his time opening James up slowly and taking him apart, if that’s what the younger man truly wants, and it’s most definitely what Robbie wants. He’d never dreamed they’d get there this quickly, though.

He tightens his fist as James bucks up faster into his slick grip, his own need fading to a comfortable background burn in his belly as he loses himself to the rhythm of giving a damn good hand-job. James is uncut, to his delight, so Robbie devotes a good amount of attention to sliding the foreskin back and forth, watching James’s face closely to see the flickers of ecstasy when his stroking hand and fingers find a particularly sweet spot.

“Please please please…” James, the brilliant man with a perfect quote for every occasion, has been reduced to nothing but mindless begging, his chest and cheeks flushed a bright red that Robbie would consider feverish under any other circumstances. “Now, Robert, please, now…”

And Robbie slides the fingers of his free hand down and back between James’s parted thighs, finding the tight furl of James’s arsehole and circling briefly before sliding one slick finger carefully in to the first knuckle. He tightens his fist further around James’s cock at the very same moment, and James actually howls as he reaches his peak, his body quivering and his head tossing back and forth on the pillow as he shoots his release as far as his own chest and chin.

Stroking gently through the visible aftershocks, Robbie gingerly slides his finger free – judging by how tight James is, he’s glad they didn’t rush to take things further – and he loosens his grip on James’s softening yet still impressive cock, watching the other man’s face carefully. James’s eyes are wide open, surprisingly, though his gaze is unfocussed. His jaw is slack, his mouth gaping wide as he pants for breath, and Robbie feels a sudden flash of manly pride in the way he’s reduced James to a quivering wreck so easily. Not bad for an old man.

Rubbing one hand soothingly across James’s heaving belly, feeling the last of the aftershocks still rocking the younger man, Robbie palms his own erection carelessly as he leans closer to peck a kiss to those temptingly parted lips.

“How was that then, pet?” Robbie asks softly, smiling at the mess he’s made of his normally well-put-together partner. “You okay?”

James just blinks hazily, eyes still staring and unfocussed, and Robbie can’t help but kiss him again, a little firmer this time. James is still so flushed, but Robbie doesn’t want to leave him to fetch a cool cloth quite yet, though he’ll need a quick clean-up before they go any further this evening. 

Another few minutes of silence, apart from James’s slowing gasps for air, and Robbie keeps one hand stroking slow circles across James’s lower belly, waiting for the other man to respond. Finally, James blinks once and seems to focus back on Robbie with those strangely black eyes.

“There you are, James,” Robbie whispers. “You back with me at last? Feeling okay?”

“No.”

It’s barely more than a weak exhale of air, but Robbie’s gut clenches immediately in sudden fear as James twists weakly beneath him, rolling away onto his side. Before he can even begin to ask what might be wrong, James is being violently sick, his head hanging over the edge of the bed.

“Christ, James, easy there.” Robbie pushes aside his panic and focusses on looking after James, slipping one hand under his head to support the weight and moving the other to James’s hip in an effort to keep him steady on the mattress. “Okay. You’re okay. Better out than in, right?”

It’s a feeble attempt at a joke, one James most likely hasn’t even heard, and Robbie just continues to make soothing noises as James keeps on being sick for what feels like hours. When at last the long body starts to lose its tension, and James is reduced to coughing and gasping for air, Robbie settles James’s head onto a pillow and rearranges those long limbs into some semblance of the recovery position, tugging a thin sheet up from the foot of the bed to James’s waist.

Robbie slides off the bottom of the bed and, heedless of his own nudity as his erection fades rapidly, hurries around to face James as best he can while being careful to avoid the spreading puddle of nastiness on his bedroom floor. James’s eyes are closed loosely now, and he could almost be asleep but for the fine trembling in all his muscles, his skin still flushed a hot scarlet.

“James, open your eyes for me.” Robbie strokes one hand gently through James’s soft, dishevelled hair, and rubs the other up his flank, suddenly feeling the heat burning through the younger man. “James? James, love, can you hear me?”

Burning, hotter now, and the flush is actually the flush of a fever, James’s skin worryingly dry yet almost painfully hot to the touch. To Robbie’s absolute horror, that shivering seems to intensify until James is suddenly swept up into a full-blown seizure, all his limbs locked and his head snapping backwards on his neck.

“Bloody hell. Hold on, love,” he whispers urgently, trying to keep the shaking form as still as he possibly can while his mind races. Is James sick? Has he been ill all this time, or is it something to do with the wine, perhaps – either way, James needs an ambulance, but Robbie’s phone lies abandoned in the corridor, somewhere in the piles of their discarded clothes. He’s afraid to leave James alone even for a moment, but he has no choice. He stands and makes a mad dash for his phone. “Christ. What’ve I done?”


	2. Chapter 2

It feels like hours. Feels like days, almost, like the sun has risen and set a dozen times while Robbie sits and waits… and worries. Time always seems to move very differently in a hospital waiting room. Robbie figures he should certainly know, having spent far too much time in them over the years, both work-related and for other, far more personal reasons.

This? This is about as personal as it can possibly get, and he’s terrified.

“Robbie?” The sound of hurried footsteps across the tiled floor, then a comforting presence close by his side as Laura drops into the plastic chair there, but Robbie simply can’t tear his eyes away from the double-doors that lead through to the treatment area. 

“You didn’t have to come,” he tells her quietly, in lieu of a true greeting, and can’t help but flinch as a gentle hand comes to rest on his knee. 

Laura’s response is immediate, and her words melt some of the icy fear from around Robbie’s heart. “Of course I had to come. It’s James. And it’s you.”

Laura had been the first one he’d called after phoning for the ambulance. The only person he’d wanted to call, and the only one he wanted there with him, in spite of his opening words to her – they are still friends and probably always will be, even after everything they’ve been through together. 

Robbie had thought of calling Nell for a brief second or two, but somehow he’d known that James wouldn’t want his sister there. Robbie’s practically given up trying to understand the complicated relationship between the two siblings, trusting that James will open up to him when he’s good and ready, and Nell might not even have wanted to come to the hospital. Not until they have some answers. Not until they know. Robbie will call her when they know.

“They’re still doing tests, last I heard.” With sheer force of will, he manages to sit back in his chair and turn slightly until he is looking directly at Laura; to his knowing gaze she seems worried yet focussed, probably firmly in what he thinks of as ‘doctor mode’. “They won’t let me be in the room with him.”

Laura nods thoughtfully. “No, I imagine they’ll need some space to work. He’s in good hands, Robbie, you know he is. And on the phone you said he woke up a bit, in the ambulance?”

Robbie scrubs one hand roughly over his face, suddenly feeling very old and tired as he heaves a sigh. “Aye, he woke up, just a little. He was still really groggy, though, and confused, but he was awake. Just for a few seconds.”

The relief that had washed over him when James had blinked his eyes open had been palpable, and he’d wished desperately he could have been close enough to hold James’s hand as the paramedic had asked a few quick questions before the lad had drifted off again.

“That’s a good sign. A very good sign.” Laura squeezes Robbie’s knee firmly, pulling him from his thoughts and anchoring him firmly back in the moment. “Now take a slow, deep breath, and tell me exactly what happened, from the beginning.”

The knot of fear deep in Robbie’s chest seems to pull tighter again at Laura’s calm words, and he wonders how he can even being to explain things when he isn’t even remotely sure himself. What exactly had happened? The evening started so well, then had gone so terribly wrong in the blink of an eye.

“I should’ve seen something wasn’t right,” he admits, swallowing hard. “He was a bit warm, then he was suddenly burning up, then the next minute he was throwing up all over the floor. And then… then he was having some sort of fit, right there in front of me, and I couldn’t wake him.”

Laura’s face grows a fraction paler, but she barely blinks. Definitely in doctor mode, Robbie thinks distractedly, even as she asks calmly, “And you said that they think it might be an allergic reaction of some kind, rather than an illness?”

That had been one of the many things the paramedics had suggested, in those first frantic moments after their arrival when Robbie had been desperately trying to describe the events of the evening. Meningitis had been another, and Robbie’s heart had nearly stopped at the very thought of it. But now, he just shakes his head in answer to Laura’s question, because he simply doesn’t know. He isn’t allowed to be in the room with James while the doctors work, isn’t allowed to hear their thoughts and make sure they are looking after him. 

His gaze drifts back to those ominous white doors which hide James from his sight. Anything could be happening back there. James could be fine, already recovering and wondering what all the fuss was about. Or he could be having another fit, or he could even be – No, Robbie refuses to let himself think the worst. James will be fine. He has to be fine.

“I should’ve realised he was ill.” He shrugs helplessly, his hands balling into fists as his heart lurches in his chest. “I just thought he was a bit tipsy. I never should’ve let him…”

Robbie stutters to a stop, his cheeks suddenly burning with embarrassment; he can hardly tell Laura exactly what he’d been up to with James, can he, not given the delicate balance of their newly-rediscovered friendship.

But Laura, of course, somehow doesn’t need to be told. “You were in bed together, I’m guessing? When he fell ill?” Her voice remains carefully calm, moderated and non-judgemental, which is exactly what Robbie needs, though it doesn’t ease his embarrassment even a fraction. “He would’ve stopped you, Robbie, I’m sure of it. If he’d felt that poorly he would have said something.”

As desperate as James had been for Robbie to fuck him, Robbie very much doubts that the man would have spoken up even if he’d been at death’s door. But Robbie should’ve seen it. He should have seen that James wasn’t himself. Christ, how could he not have seen it?

Robbie is suddenly overwhelmed with feelings of guilt and anger at himself for allowing things to spiral out of control. What the hell had he been thinking? Clearly, he hadn’t been. He should never have allowed himself to be carried away by James’s sense of urgency and need. 

As he glances up, he realises that Laura is watching him carefully, still waiting for a response. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to get his emotions under control, then manages another non-committal shrug. “Aye, maybe.” 

He pushes up out of his chair, dislodging Laura’s steadying hand from his knee, feeling the need to be moving, walking, running even. He’s torn between either forcing his way through those double doors ahead of him or fleeing from the building entirely, but once he stands, he finds he can’t take even a single step in any direction. 

Laura stands with him, her hands on his shoulders as if to keep him in place, though he still can’t move. “Robbie, this isn’t your fault.”

He shouldn’t be surprised that she can read him so well. This is Laura, after all, and she’s always been bloody perceptive, particularly where Robbie is concerned. “I think it is, Laura, and I – ” 

“It’s really not. James is a grown man who is more than capable of making his own decisions. Besides, it’s not like it was your first time.” The slight hint of bitterness that creeps into Laura’s voice is somehow forgivable given their history, Robbie knows, but then there is dawning realisation in her eyes as he turns to stare at her in sudden mortification. The truth of the situation must be written all over his face. “Oh, Robbie. I had no idea.”

For a long moment, they simply stand and stare at each other, neither of them knowing what they can possibly say. Robbie’s stomach is churning, his heart racing painfully in his chest, and he can’t stop the whirl of thoughts racing through his brain.

Somewhere in the hospital, behind those dreaded double-doors, James might be fighting for his life even as they speak. Whatever the cause, whatever the reason, whatever mistakes Robbie might have made – Robbie just needs James to be okay. James has to be okay. There is simply no other option. 

Laura suddenly reaches her arms around Robbie without hesitation, pulling him into a tight embrace. “He’ll be fine,” she whispers. “James will be just fine. You’ll both be fine.”

Robbie just wishes he could believe her words.

* * *

The news, when it finally comes, is cautiously optimistic: James is responding well to treatment and is expected to make a full recovery, and Robbie will most likely be allowed in to see him within the next hour or so, assuming things continue to improve as they are.

“Preliminary tests have come back positive for X-Cat in his system,” the doctor tells Robbie and Laura. “As you may know – ”

“It’s a new psychoactive substance. A so-called ‘legal’ high,” Robbie interjects, and the doctor falls silent, watching him carefully with narrowed eyes. “But James would never willingly take something so stupid. He’d never touch drugs of any kind.”

Laura lays a steadying hand on his arm. “Of course he wouldn’t, Robbie,” she says gently, though for the first time she sounds shaken beneath her professional veneer. “No one is suggesting otherwise. How could he have come into contact with it? Through work?”

Robbie mentally reviews what he knows about this particular substance. X-Cat is the latest ‘designer’ drug to be doing the rounds of Oxford, and the police have had more than their fair share of call-outs recently coping with students and others who have discovered that, even though it’s still referred to as a ‘legal’ high, it can have some nasty and unpredictable side effects.

Both Robbie and James have sat through enough briefings recently to know that the drug normally causes a mild euphoria, not dissimilar to the effects of a night of heavy drinking. But for some users the come-down can be particularly harsh, sometimes leading to feverish delusions and even seizures, as in poor James’s case. It’s most commonly taken in pill form, though it can also be easily dissolved in alcohol, making it incredibly dangerous and hard to detect.

“It’s the wine,” Robbie realises abruptly, turning to Laura and seizing her by the arm. “He’d never have taken a pill, we know that, but it must have been in the wine. Maybe it was spiked, somehow, whether deliberately or not?”

The doctor suddenly seems intently interested, clipboard and pen at the ready. “What wine, sir?” he asks urgently. “What brand?”

“A bottle of homemade black-cherry wine we bought from a farmer’s market this afternoon. James tried it, but I hadn’t had any yet, not even a sip.” It all seems to make a sudden, painful sort of sense to Robbie. “The bloke selling it was a bit… off. The bottle’s still sitting on my dining table at home.”

Laura whips out her phone. “I’ll get someone round to pick it up and get it straight to the lab.” She’s all business and calm professionalism once again, and Robbie takes a slow breath, trying to find his own focus.

“Lizzie,” he tells her belatedly, even as the doctor disappears back in the direction of the treatment area with his clipboard at a fast trot. “Call Lizzie, yeah? She’s got a key to the flat, and…”

Robbie really wants to say that James’s sergeant would want to know, that he should probably have called her already, but all he can do is shake his head as his throat suddenly threatens to close up.

Laura squeezes his shoulder briefly before stepping away to make the call, leaving Robbie alone with his fears and worries again. It’s all so much worse than he’d thought. He hadn’t taken advantage of a drunk or poorly James, no; he’d taken advantage of a James who was unknowingly drugged out of his mind. James would never have initiated their first sexual encounter in such a sudden and desperate way, and Robbie should have known that. He should have stopped everything rather than letting himself get swept up in the unexpected pleasure of it all.

Of course, the only thing that really matters right now is getting James the treatment he needs. It has to be the wine, and if it really was laced with X-Cat, either deliberately or accidentally, then the entire Oxfordshire police force will track down the vendor and make sure he answers for his crimes. Robbie will be leading the team, with Lizzie and a whole army of volunteers close behind him, he’s sure of that much.

But Robbie and James? Their budding personal relationship will be over after this, surely, with James’s trust in Robbie destroyed. Robbie will help the other man get back on his feet, assuming James will even want to be anywhere near Robbie after what he’s done, but then it will all be over, before it’s scarcely even started.

* * *

When Robbie is eventually allowed through the double doors to James’s tiny, curtained-off corner of the treatment room, he is both stunned and relieved to see how much better James already looks, compared to his pale and sickly demeanour in the ambulance earlier. His cheeks are still a little flushed, and there are dark circles beneath his eyes, but he is awake and aware, his eyes locking on to Robbie’s almost immediately as a tired yet bright smile appears on his lips.

“I’m okay,” James says instantly, reaching out a hand which, to Robbie’s practised eye, is trembling just a fraction. “Come here, please?”

Despite his fears, and despite his feelings of guilt, Robbie can never resist when James asks him anything, most especially not when the man in question is lying in a hospital bed hooked up to softly beeping monitors. 

Taking that outstretched hand, cautious of the snaking IV line leading from the back to a bag of clear fluids hanging above the bed, Robbie wraps it tightly in both of his own as he steps closer to James’s bedside. “Hey there,” he murmurs roughly, his throat tightening yet again with so many mixed emotions, and James just about manages another small smile.

“‘Hey there’ yourself. You okay?”

Robbie is incredulous at the fact that James can even ask that of him, when James is the poorly one here. “Am I okay? I should be asking you that, surely. How are you feeling?”

“Surprisingly not as awful as I think I should be.” James shifts his shoulders slightly against the pillow in what might be a weak attempt at a shrug. “Best I can describe it is a bit like a combination of a hangover and a touch of the flu. I’m a bit shaky, but the headache’s the worst of it, and even that’s not so bad now.”

Hesitating for barely a second, Robbie moves one hand up to stroke gently through James’s sweat-damp blond hair, scratching gentle circles over the younger man’s scalp in a tried and tested headache cure. He waits with baited breath to see if James will flinch from him, but instead James simply makes a contented little noise in the back of his throat as he moves into the touch, and Robbie allows himself a smile of relief even though fear and guilt are still churning in his stomach.

James blinks up heavily at Robbie, his eyes startlingly clear and focussed after everything he’s been through, his pupils a normal size once again. “Seriously, I’ll be okay. The doctors think I’m over the worst of it all now. They’re just monitoring me for a while, probably overnight at least. And they told me they think it might have been drugs in that bottle of wine we’d bought? Can that be right?”

Robbie nods once, keeping his fingers moving gently on James’s head. “Lizzie’s taken it to the lab – she sends her best wishes, of course – and they’ll know soon enough. Moody’s already got Laxton’s team started on tracking down the vendor, just in case.” Robbie already knows he’ll have to exercise extreme restraint in order to resist smacking the bastard when – if – they do arrest him, but there are far more important things to deal with first, starting with the man lying so limply on the bed in front of him, tucked beneath a thin hospital blanket. “James, I don’t even know what to say – ” 

“Are you okay, Robbie? Really?” James’s gaze is piercing, almost as if he can read Robbie’s thoughts. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you not answering me earlier. I can’t even imagine how I’d feel if our positions were reversed.”

Clever sod, always seeing straight to the heart of the problem, at least as far as Robbie is concerned. “I’m a bit shaky myself,” he admits quietly, and James’s fingers tighten fractionally around his own in a weak attempt at comfort. “And pretty scared. And just very, very sorry.”

A tiny frown appears on James’s brow, which Robbie instinctively moves to try to stroke away with his thumb. “What on earth are you sorry for?” James asks, obviously confused. “It was me who decided to buy the wine, and me who couldn’t wait to sample it. It’s a good thing you hadn’t had any, really, or who would’ve phoned the ambulance for me?”

“But I shouldn’t’ve let things go on the way they did. I should’ve spotted you weren’t well, and slowed everything down. I certainly shouldn’t have taken you to the bedroom and carried right on.”

Robbie really hadn’t planned to have this conversation in the hospital, though perhaps it’s actually for the best that they get it over with. He expects James to tell him to leave now, or at the very least to get angry, but for reasons Robbie can’t even begin to understand, James suddenly smiles. It’s a smile which is far closer to his natural smile than the weak effort from earlier, and his already-flushed cheeks slowly turn a brighter shade of pink with what Robbie recognises as a blush. 

“Oh, you’re surely not thinking you took advantage of me? If anything, Robert, I should be the one apologising for taking advantage of you. The way I jumped on you like that… I remember every moment, and every detail, and for my part I don’t regret a single thing that happened before things got hazy for me at the end, but – ” James takes a sudden sharp gasp of breath. “God, if you feel I forced you into anything then I – ” 

“No! Christ, James, not even remotely.”

“Really?” James sounds doubtful. “I came on pretty strong, and I know it was all very sudden.” 

James is starting to look actively worried now, and that’s absolutely the last thing Robbie wants. They can unpick the whole thing at a later date, once James is fully recovered and back home, but for now, with both of them blaming themselves but neither of them truly at fault, it seems their fledgling relationship might just have a chance to survive intact after all.

Robbie glances back quickly over his shoulder, though he already knows the curtain is still safely drawn around their corner of the room, before leaning closer over the bed to kiss James gently yet firmly on the lips, in a move he hopes will reassure. After a stunned second or two, James starts to kiss him right back, and the knots in Robbie’s stomach finally start to relax for good.

“No regrets, then?” Robbie asks quietly when they eventually break for air. He begins to stroke his hand through James’s hair once again. “It might not’ve happened the way either of us would have planned for our first time, I think we can agree on that, but no regrets? Up until you threw up and started fitting, at least?”

“Only one regret,” James whispers back, his face suddenly turning serious, and Robbie’s heart nearly stops beating before he adds quickly, “After all of that, you never even got off, did you?”

Robbie barks a laugh at the unexpected question; he’d forgotten about that, in all his fear and panic. “No, I bloody well didn’t. But let’s get you better first, pet, and then – when and if you’re ready – we’ll have a second first time, okay? With absolutely no drugs or alcohol involved.” 

“Sounds like a perfect plan to me.” James blinks up at Robbie heavily, his exhaustion and the ongoing treatment clearly starting to catch up with him, so Robbie leans closer to peck one final kiss to James’s lips.

“Sleep,” he urges. “You need to rest and recover, and give that damned drug time to work its way out of your system.” 

James blinks one more time before his eyes stay closed and his fingers slowly start to go lax in Robbie’s grip. “You’ll stay?” he asks drowsily, clearly on the very edge of the sleep he needs so desperately, and Robbie smiles softly.

A dozen doctors and nurses couldn’t drag him away now he’s finally been allowed into the treatment area, and Robbie manages to drag a high stool over to James’s bedside with his foot, settling himself close without ever having to let go of James’s hand. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, love, I promise.”

It’s doubtful that James has heard him, but that doesn’t matter. Robbie will stay, and he’ll keep watch, and when he’s allowed, he’ll take James home with him and show him just how much he is treasured. And after all, they have plenty of firsts still to discover.

**Author's Note:**

> My hesitation over use of any warnings is due to possible hints of dub-con, or non-con. Detailed spoilers ahead:
> 
> James initiates his 'first time' with Robbie after drinking some homemade wine, before being taken ill. Robbie later learns that the wine had been spiked with a type of drug called a new psychoactive substance or NPS, more commonly known as a 'legal high' even though they aren't still legal in the UK. Robbie worries that he's taken advantage of a drugged James who couldn't have fully consented to their first sexual encounter, then James later worries that he had forced Robbie into going too far too fast. In the end, though, they both decide that neither of them is to blame and that they will simply have to have another go at their 'first time' later.


End file.
